


Overflow

by RemainNameless



Series: on hiatus i'm sorry [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek resorts to seduction, F/M, M/M, Stiles in not amused, non-fetishized references to wolf pack dynamics, werewolf mating references
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-19
Updated: 2012-07-20
Packaged: 2017-11-08 03:33:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/438678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RemainNameless/pseuds/RemainNameless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Stiles saves Derek's life in the pool, he realizes that he wants him in his pack. Stiles is not really down with that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lay Me Down

**Author's Note:**

> Posted on my tumblr, but this format is easier so whatevs.

When Stiles walked out of his bathroom, _finally_ dry, he’d fully intended to throw himself on his bed and sleep for a good year, _at least_. Because he’s sore and tired and once the adrenaline wore off, his bones turned all rubbery. Bendy. 

And then there was a werewolf in his room. 

So not so much with the sleeping and collapsing. Which wasn’t really okay because the collapsing bit sounded _nice_ , and dealing with an Alpha who probably still thought he was hot shit even though Stiles saved his soggy sourwolf ass hardcore. 

“Growl at me in the morning, puppy breath. I’m tired. Get out. And thanks for making my room smell like wet dog. _Really_.” 

“I need to talk to you.” He sighed and flopped across Stiles’ bed.

“No, not my— I hate you. That’s where I sleep. You’re _wet_.”

“Then get me a towel and stop complaining. I wasn’t joking. I need to talk to you.” 

Stiles made a face, considering his options. Derek never did what he wanted, so might as well give him what he came for so he could _get off his bed_. His now _wet dog smell-_ y bed. _Werewolves_. Really. Inconsiderate bunch. 

When he came back with a towel, Derek’s shirt was on the floor and Stiles was looking at his che— _eyes_. He was looking at his eyes. On his face. Those. 

“Take this,” he said and it _did not_ come out high pitched or anything. The towel landed neatly on Derek’s chest, and was the sexy a werewolf thing? Not that it mattered. But it probably was, what with Erica and all that. Thinking of…. “Is Erica sitting in your car outside of my house? Because that’s really creepy. She’s creepy. And not very nice.”

“ _Sit_ ,” Derek just about growled. He was more or less upright and rubbing his— eyes. Yep. Okay, eyes. Angry eyes. Derek was angry. Oh, right, he wasn’t sitting. So, yeah, sitting down. In…chair. Chair was a good place. Right. 

“So. Talk. You have five minutes before I pass out. Go. And really? You’re going to wear wet jeans on my bed? You do realize that I have to sleep there tonight, don’t you? But that’s right. You don’t care.” 

With an annoyed look, Derek stood and his hands went for his— _eyes_. 

“What are you doing? Stop. Did I give you permission to take your pants off in my room? _This is not a pants-optional environment_. So just. Don’t. Do that.” Sit on your towel and behave. Good boy.” Alright, that was apparently too far. That was definitely not a human growl. But then the angry look melted away, and Derek smiled a little. Which was fucking creepy. What was going on?

With a tiny nod, he got up, laid the towel down on the wet spot, and did something funny with his eyebrows. But he didn’t sit down again. No, he did the Derek Hale thing and got into Stiles’ personal space, pulling the chair over to the bed. Right, so, chair with wheels, not such a good idea. But he didn’t know to expect that a testy werewolf with very nice _eyes_ was going to be manhandling him. Again. 

“You know, at the very beginning, I was worried when I realized you knew about Scott and me. I didn’t trust you not to tell anyone. But you didn’t, and then I wasn’t sure about how involved we should allow you to be.” His hands were still on the arms of Stiles’ chair, and he’d pulled it so close that his knees were against the bed. Between Derek’s legs. Alright. That was. A thing. That was happening. And yeah, there were his eyes again. Good. 

“What are you getting at?”

“You’re smart. You’re loyal. You’re brave. You think on your feet. And you’re important.” 

“I’m awesome, I know, I get it. What do you—?” He stopped when he felt Derek’s fingertips on his knees. “ _Oh_. You— No. No way. Not on your life. Not interested. Count me out.” He tried to push away, but Derek grabbed the chair by the arms again and leaned over him.

“Why not? Maybe Scott doesn’t realize how much of an asset you’d be, but I do. You’re better and more useful than all three of my betas, and you’re not even turned. I think you’d be stronger than Scott, and I could train you. I could teach you how to control it.”

“I don’t care. I like being human. Now get out. You’re done.”

Derek sort of sniffed at him a little, as if that wasn’t creepy as fuck. “You’re lying. I can hear your heartbeat. You want the bite.”

“ _Oh_ my God, will you just—“ He shoved away as best he could. “What _is it_ with Alphas and thinking they’re always right? Because your Rapey McRaperson uncle did the same thing, and I am telling you, _I am not interested_.”

Derek went lax and plopped down on the bed. “Peter offered it to you.” He said it like it was difficult to understand. 

“Yeah. So what? Why wouldn’t he? Like you said, I’m a catch. A not-interested catch.” 

“No, he _offered_ you the bite.” Derek had this look like that should mean something, but Stiles didn’t get it. “He bit Scott and Lydia without asking, without even _warning_ them. And he just _offered_ it to you. And didn’t do it anyway.” His eyes went squinty, like he was trying to make some sort of point.

Stiles narrowed his eyes, thinking, then gave up. “I’m not following.” 

“He was courting you.” 

Oh.

Oh, _ewww_. No no no no no. Peter was fucking ancient and oozed creepy prison bitch vibes at him and that was— _Ew_. 

Stiles may have gagged. Or squeaked. Whichever was manlier. 

“ _Why_? That is…not okay. I’m going to have nightmares. He’s dead, and I’m _still_ going to have nightmares. I just— _why_? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Alphas work in _pairs_ ,” Derek explained. “An alpha with a mate is more powerful, stronger, sharper, and has better control of their pack. An alpha without a mate can’t reach their full potential. They work as a team to train and care for the pack. They become stronger _together_.” By the time he finished, Derek was looking at him…differently. 

“Um….”

“You already take care of Scott, you’ve trained him some. You’ve shown your loyalty not only to him and to Allison, but also to me. And you…you surprise me. We don’t think the same way. We look at things differently. If we worked together, we could form a complete unit—“

“No. No way. I’m not going to… _mate_ with you or whatever. That’s…no. Not for me. Sorry. Not how I roll.” Well, alright, that was _sort_ _of_ true. But he didn’t have to look at guys if he looked at Lydia, didn’t have to look at Derek or Danny or anyone who wasn’t…yeah. 

“Look, you can say no — I can’t _force_ you because you’d never work with me if I did — but if you’re going to say no, at least be honest about why. Come up with a real reason. That’s all I ask.” 

“Just to be clear, how much actual _mating_ would be going on here? Like, is it a ‘you take me out on dates’ kind of a thing or is it a ‘my ass is yours’ thing? Just so I understand. Because I’m not really into the…yeah. All of that.”

“Stiles. Scott has explained the wolf sense to you, right?”

“I mean, _duh_ —“

“Okay, then you know that I can smell not just what you had for lunch today but also any chemicals your body produces?”

Stiles shifted, not liking where they were going. “Yeah. Fear. And stuff. I get that.”

“Fear, yes. And other types of arousal.” Alright, and _eyes_. Right up there. On his…face. With the stubble and mouth and _eyes_. “So don’t pretend that the reason you don’t want to do it is because you’re not attracted to me. Because I can smell it on you.” 

Well, that was making everything very, very clear.

“Right, so, this whole thing, the showing up in my room at night, the whole not-wearing-a-shirt thing, the grabby hands…You came here to seduce me into joining your pack, is that it? You thought, ‘Oh, look, that Stiles is sexually confused and kind of a loser, he’d be super easy. Why don’t I manipulate him into joining me?’ Yeah, well, _it didn’t work_. I’m. Not. Interested. I don’t want to be a werewolf, I don’t want to be in a pack, and I _definitely_ don’t want you as my Alpha or mate or _anything_. So now that we’ve made that clear, let go of me, put your clothes back on, and get out of my room because _I want to sleep_.”

Derek let go like he’d been burned. “Fine. Just tell me why. Give me a good reason.”

“Because I don’t like you. You’re arrogant, you’re creepy, and you have no concept of personal space. Because you tried to use your wiles on me. And you’ve punched me in the face. So there.”

“I didn’t realize how important you were. That’s all—“

“Save it, sourwolf. I’m really, _really_ done with this conversation right now.”

Derek sort of loomed over him, then drew in close, right next to his ear. “Then I guess I’ll have to persuade you some other time,” he whispered low, breath burning Stiles’ ear. Then, without warning, he _licked_ a strip up Stiles’ neck to just under his earlobe. “I like how you taste when you want me.” 

And when Stiles opened his eyes, he was alone.


	2. Pockets Full of Stones

The problem with being an awesome best friend, Stiles had learned, was that in any best friendship, there was only really room for one friend to be the awesome one. Stiles was very, very good at being an awesome best friend. Pretty much the best at it, really, what with the whole thing with the claws and the teeth and the full moon. 

What it all boiled down to was that Scott wasn’t answering his phone. 

Again.

And he couldn’t exactly leave a message because Stiles had to use the land line because, oh yeah, his own phone was at the bottom of a pool. Because _someone_ hung up on him. 

“Wow, Scott, it’s not like I needed you for v _ery important werewolf-related business_ or I do everything you need _whenever you ask_!” he yelled at the phone. He’d hung up before the yelling because it wasn’t until he got to the twelve-hour mark that he’d start _really_ bitching at him. Besides, he wasn’t going to begrudge Scott a good thing. If _he_ was getting it on the regular, he’d probably ignore Scott’s calls, too. Only not, because Scott wasn’t actually all that spectacular at being a werewolf, at least not on the _knowing what the hell is going on_ side of things, and if Stiles wasn’t there to make sure he didn’t do something stupid, he’d probably, well, _do something stupid_.

The probably with getting creeped on by someone who had no problems climbing into your bedroom at night was that there was no way of knowing when you were safe. At least that was the bigger of the problems with it, Stiles figured. There was also the licking. That was a problem for sure. And the saying creepy things bit. That was…well, that was an awkward sort of boner that he never wanted to have again. Ever. Even if the licking moved to other places.

_Anyway_. 

So now he was bored and alone and couldn’t even enjoy having the house to himself properly because the idea of watching porn felt icky, what with the possibility that Derek might make an appearance and make stupid judgements about his _interests_. He needed distraction….

“Danny! What’re you doin’, my man? Staying classy, of course, wouldn’t expect less—“

“What do you want, Stiles?”

“I just…wanna hang out?” He bit his lip, hoping that he’d have an excuse to get out of Derek’s stalking grounds. 

A sigh. “Fine. You can come over, but not for too long. I have plans tonight.” Right. Plans. Normal people had plans on Saturday nights. Oh, how he wished he could have plans…. “Just don’t be weird.”

 

Fifteen minutes later, Stiles threw himself on Danny’s bean bag chair and scoped out his room. Chill place. Not super gay, not super jock-y. Just normal. 

“So. Hot date tonight?”

“Not so much. Jackson wants to practice or something. I dunno.”

“Maybe it _is_ a hot date then. Maybe he’s just using an excuse to—“

“Remember what I said about not being weird? You’re being weird. Stop. And Jackson is _definitely_ not my type, however much he might think he is.” _That_ piqued Stiles’ interest.

“Jackson has a thing for you?”

Danny laughed. “No. He has a thing for himself. The idea of someone not being interested in him is too much for him to handle. He doesn’t know what to do.” 

“Right…” Stiles started looking around his room more. Bookcase, normal books, desk, normal stuff. 

“So why are you here?”

“Well, Scott wasn’t answering his phone—“

“Are you seriously using me as a replacement for Scott McCall? I think that’s some sort of insult.”

“No, I mean— Well, okay, you remember my cousin Miguel?” 

“The one you tried to throw at me?”

“I wouldn’t _quite_ call it that—“

“Then what would you call it?”

“Maybe…used as an incentive? Wait, that sounds bad…. _Anyway_. So, Miguel? Not really my cousin.”

“Yeah, I gathered.”

“How—? Nevermind. So. He’s just this…dude. Who I know. Sort of. And we’re…”

“‘ _Friends’_?” Danny supplied with a raised eyebrow.

Stiles grimaced. “Would _not_ call it that. Ever. With or without entendre. More like…acquaintances? Yeah. We know each other sort of through Scott, and—“

“Does this have anything to do with whatever it is that you, Scott, and Jackson are involved with? Because he looked shady, and whatever _it_ is? Seems pretty shady too.”

“It’s…not that shady? Well, it’s a little shady. But anyway, Derek — that’s his name, not Miguel — he and I don’t really get along well. I mean, I _try_ but I think he has anger issues or something because he likes throwing me against walls—“

“TMI, man. _Way_ too much.”

“Not, like, _sexually_ ,” he said, then considered it. “Well, maybe in light of recent events, a little bit sexually. But basically he sneaks into my house sometimes and gets growly and last night he kind of licked me. Is that a gay thing? Licking?”

Danny glared. “Are you seriously asking me that?” Alright, bad move. 

“But there was some licking and now he may or may not be trying to seduce me and I’m really scared.”

Danny sighed, long and loud, then faced Stiles with a no-nonsense look. “Alright, I’m going to help you through your sexual identity crisis _just this once_ , and then we’re going to pretend this conversation never happened. Okay?” Stiles nodded. “So, first question: Do you think he’s attractive?”

Stiles shrugged, made a face, shrugged again like he was having a seizure, made another face, then stopped when he saw Danny’s expression. “Maybe. Maybe a little bit. I mean, you’ve seen him. He’s got—“ he gestured at his chest vaguely, regretting it “—nice…eyes. Yeah. Kind of.” He shrugged a little too much. “Maybe. If we’re being technical about it.”

Danny wiped a hand over his face. “Jesus. You’re a mess,” he groaned, then shook it off and looked at him again. “So you think he’s attractive. He apparently thinks you’re attractive. So what’s the problem, exactly?”

“He’s…how do I explain it? Let’s go with _really_ into monogamy. Like, _really really_ into it. Like, forever. That sort of thing. Also, he’s scary. There, I said it. I’m scared of Derek Hale. Man, that feels good to say outlou—“

“Did you say Derek _Hale_? Wasn’t he a suspected mass murderer or something?”

“The charges were dropped. He actually didn’t have anything to do with it? I mean, he’s not really _murderer_ scary,” Stiles said, except that he kind of _was_ , actually. “His _ego_ , on the other hand, is terrifying to behold.” 

“Alright, but former suspected mass murderer sneaking into your house at night? I think normal people would consider that a cause for concern. I would say ‘Call the police’, but, hey, you kind of _live_ with the police.”

“Yeah, but he’s really not actually dangerous.” Alright, _big_ lie there, but it was more complicated than he could explain to Danny. Which was why he needed Scott. Maybe he could just drop in, see if he was home. Yeah, that could work. 

“Whatever. Fuck him or don’t. It’s your choice.”

Stiles choked. Alright, that was…graphic. “Uh, good talk?” he said stiffly. He needed to talk to Scott because not being able to explain the werewolf thing left out most of the picture. And Danny was getting suspicious. And testy.

“Yeah. Whatever. Just, next time? Don’t use me as your gay guru or something. That’s what the internet is for. Also, I don’t know if it’s drugs or something weirder, but whatever it is you’re all involved in? Just be careful. Jackson’s been acting really weird lately and I don’t what it is, but if it fucks him up, I’m going to be pissed. He may be an asshole, but he’s still my best friend.” 

“Yeah, no, I get it. I really do.” There was an awkward moment where Stiles wasn’t sure if he was supposed to go in for a hug or a handshake or just leave, so he just stood there for a moment before giving a little salute and heading on his way.

 

“Of-fucking- _course_ ,” Stiles groaned upon climbing into Scott’s room. He was drooling all over his pillow, pretty much dead to the world. His phone was on the nightstand, showing missed calls. Great. It was almost one, and Scott got to be the one to still be asleep. Not, you know, Stiles, who actually exerted a ridiculous amount of energy the night before. No big deal.

“No way are you going to sleep on me when I’m having an existential crisis,” he mumbled, then poked at Scott. “Wake up, wolf boy! No more sleepy time.” 

Scott wrinkled up his face and flopped over. “Go ‘ _way_ , Stiles.” 

“Derek tried to get into my pants last night,” he said, getting exactly the reaction he was aiming for: Scott practically _jumped_ into a sitting position, a look of utter horror on his face. 

“ _What_? Run that by me one more time?”

“Welcome to the world of the living, bro! So glad you could join us. If your phone hadn’t been on silent, we could’ve had this conversation, like, three hours ago.”

“Wait, so you’re not joking?”

“I wish.” Stiles sat on the bed. “He got all creepy and _Derek_ last night and showed up in my room. And somewhere in there, his shirt came off and he was trying to, I dunno, seduce me, I guess? It was fucking weird.”

“ _Why_ , though? I don’t _get_ it.”

“Wow. Yeah, I mean, obviously, it’s totally _baffling_ that anyone could find me attractive, so yeah, no, I get why you’re confused. Totally—“

“ _Not_ what I meant.”

“Then what _did_ you mean?”

“I dunno. It just seems kind of…out of character for him. I never got that vibe from him. You, sure—“

“Hey!”

“—And I’ve done my very best to ignore it because _mental images_ , but I didn’t think he…you know.”

“Okay, to be fair, I don’t think he thought so either. He just wanted me to join his pack, and he didn’t mind stooping to that level.”

“Wait, he wanted to _turn_ you?”

Stiles sighed. “Yeah. I mean, obviously, I was not into that _at all_ , but that was the goal. And then I told him that Peter tried to do the same thing and he got all freaky and tried to get me to be his mate or something?”

Scott gaped. Like a fish. A fish with a vaguely asymmetrical jawline. And buggy eyes. 

“So, yeah, that’s…something that happened.”

“His _mate_? I never…that’s really scary. I don’t say that lightly, but that’s…Well. That’s really weird. And terrifying. Do you need help getting out of town or something?”

“What? No. I mean, I haven’t seen him in, like, twelve hours. So I don’t think it’s an immediate threat. Or anything.” He bit his lip. “I mean, it kind of makes sense a little bit. Logistically. Strategically. Whatever. If I was his mate, you would probably join his pack. And not only am I a fucking genius, but I’ve got the inside scoop on the law enforcement. And as long as I’m human, I can work on diplomacy with the Argents because they don’t think I’m a threat. Also, I’ve been keeping _your_ furry ass from maiming anyone or getting killed or imprisoned or something without any actual wolf experience, so I could probably be helpful with training the rest of the pack. Three new betas, that’s got to be hard.” 

“Wait, are you seriously considering it?”

“No. No, not _considering_ , per se, more…assessing?” He shrugged. “It’s not like I’d ever…you know. But I can see why he’d want me. In a strictly strategic sense. Or whatever. I mean, there was the licking, but I think that was just a werewolf thing. Right?”

“Look, um, don’t go anywhere without me until this blows over. I can protect you—“

“Sorry, not your prison wife. I don’t need your protection. It’s fine. He’s not that bad. And he backed off when I told him to, so there’s that. It’s okay.”

“Stiles, he’s an _Alpha_. Do you think he’s going to try to, like, _woo_ you? That’s not really his style, even when he wasn’t an Alpha. You need to be careful. I know you like to poke at him, but maybe don’t. I don’t think it’s a good idea to try to provoke him.”

“I’m not going to _provoke_ _him_ , Jesus. I’m not stupid. I just think you’re making a bigger deal out of it than it is.”

“Yeah, well, I know what it’s like to be really into someone and then the wolf takes over, and it gets really hard to _stop_. It’s…there’s a part of me, of him, that isn’t human, that has these…primal needs. So just _be careful_ , alright? Especially around the full moon.”

“Whatever.” Stiles sighed, wanting to get off the subject. “You got any food? I’m starving.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Derek is actually in the next chapter! Promise!


	3. The Only Sound

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some cutesy stuff, some plot towards the end, shenanigans.

That night, Stiles was sitting in his room with the McCalls’ baseball bat (Scott wouldn’t let him leave without it) and half-watching a movie on his computer when his dad knocked on the doorframe. Stiles jumped about a foot at the noise. 

“Jesus. What is it?” But it only took him a second to realize that his dad did _not_ look pleased. 

“Care to tell me why Derek Hale is in my living room?” 

Stiles blinked, confused. Derek knew how to use doors? When did that happen?

“Better yet, care to tell me why a twenty-four-year-old man just asked my permission to take you out tonight?”

“Wait, what?” 

His dad sighed, rubbing a hand across his face. “How, exactly, do you know him? Because if you met him at the police station or something, I’m going to murder you. No one will ever find the body.”

“No, it’s…he’s a good friend of Scott’s? We, uh, met through him. Wait, he’s _here_? I don’t understand.”

“Look, I’ve got no problem with you… _you know_. Love who you love or whatever. But he’s older and he looks like the kind of guy who’s been around a few times, if you catch my drift. I let him know in no uncertain terms that not only do I have an impressive variety of firearms, but that there isn’t a single law enforcement officer who wouldn’t look the other way if I was protecting you. So there’s that.” His eyebrows gave a clear warning. “We clear?”

“Crystal.”

“Good. Your curfew’s midnight. I’ll be waiting.” 

Stiles froze. “Wait, you mean—“

“Your choice. Either way, you should at least find him a vase or something. I don’t know where that kind of crap is.”

If he squeaked, well, that was between him and his dad. And maybe also Derek’s super hearing. Which, okay, not cool. But whatever. A vase meant _flowers_ , which was just _beyond_ weird. 

“I know I haven’t really had an opportunity to give you dating advice, but I never thought I’d have to tell you not to have an aneurysm.  And close your mouth before you draw flies. Good.” His dad started to leave the doorway, then stopped. “You might want to change your shirt, too.” 

It was almost a minute before he’d regained enough brain function to process that and grab a clean shirt from the drawer. 

He didn’t _run_ downstairs, but there was maybe a hint of urgency to his step. But, hey, werewolf in living room. Werewolf in living room with _flowers_. 

And damn. That was a bouquet. Of roses. 

Fuck Scott, there was definitely some wooing going on.

Derek stood up, showing off a nice black button-down. Like he’d dressed nice. Which was fucking weird. 

“Here. These are for you.” He held them out like an awkward prom date, almost…nervous? No, because Derek Hale didn’t do nervous. But he clearly got all of his cues from a John Hughes movie. 

“My life is the _Twilight Zone_ , I swear,” he said to himself, heading into the kitchen, the upper cupboard over the fridge, for a vase. A looming shadow followed. 

“Would you like to go to dinner and a movie with me?” Derek asked when he took the flowers.

“Jesus, what’s with you? Why are you—“ he gestured wildly at him “— _this_? You can’t be serious.”

“Why not? What’s so wrong with trying to do this the right way?”

Stiles gaped and blinked at him. “What right way? There _is_ no right way. I’m pretty sure there aren’t any werewolf-human courting rituals. Haven’t read a single thing about it, and, you know, the internet never lies. So there. Also, _you’re a crazy person_.” 

“So you won’t date me?”

“ _Your hair is combed_. That’s _weird_. You don’t look like you. You’re not acting like you. It’s creepy.”

“That’s not a no.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Come on. This is— Wait, are you paying?”

The look he got could only be described as sassy. “That’s kind of how it works.” 

“Fine. But I’m picking out the movie because Scott thinks that seeing The Avengers more than three times is excessive, which it totally isn’t. And we’re not doing fancy dinner. I’m jonesing for pizza.” 

 

Stiles made a point of being annoying and talkative through dinner, the movie, and the car rides between. What did it matter? He wasn’t paying. Besides, it was easier than getting all weird and serious. Derek took it like a champ, too. Didn’t growl once. There was a little bit of glaring, but only human noises, so that was nice. 

(If he was being entirely honest, except for the fact that he wasn’t chatty in the least, Derek was a decent person to talk to.)

As a reward, Stiles didn’t smack him when Derek put his arm around him during the movie. No, he wasn’t a girl, thank you very much, but sometimes a little tactile support was needed for getting through traumatic events, like every scene with Phil Coulson. But whatever. 

After, as they were walking back to Derek’s car, Stiles rounded on him. “Okay, moment of truth: what character from The Avengers am I most like?” It was a challenge, sure, but Derek took it. Looked at him for a moment.

“Deadpool.”

Stiles stopped, stunned. “I was going to accept Galaga guy or Hawkeye. How did you know my favorite character? _How_?” He grabbed Derek’s shoulders and shook him, enraged, then realized what he was doing and let go. “I mean, whatever, just my favorite character in just about anything ever. That’s cool. And he wasn’t even in the movie, so you must have read the comics which means you _read comics_ and your cool factor just went up considerably.”

Derek smiled just the slightest bit, one side of the mouth. 

“Wait. _Why_ , though? Because if you’re trying to say I’m disfigured or batshit crazy, then I hate you.”

“It has more to do with your mouth.”

Good point. And, okay, that’s a look, alright. At his mouth. A very long look at his mouth that’s really suggestive and—

“So. What’s next?”

“Next, I take you home so your dad doesn’t try, unsuccessfully, to murder me. Get in the car.”

“Yeah, okay.” 

Stiles twiddled with the radio a bit, turning it off when he couldn’t find anything worth listening to. Derek was silent, but Stiles had nothing to say to fill the space. 

They stopped in front of his house with half an hour to spare. And then sat there. Silently. It was too much.

“So, is this the part of the date where we get to third base in the back seat?” he quipped. 

Derek gave him a dark look. “No. This is the part where you _get out of the car_.”

“You can’t make me.” 

It was childish, sure. Meant to get a reaction. It was bait, pure and simple. 

And it didn’t work.

“No. I can’t. But I’m trying to do this the right way, and you’re making that difficult. Don’t try to fool around with me because you think that’s what I’m after.”

“Why not?” Alright, maybe a bad move, but Derek looked almost _nice_ in the low light. Fooling around didn’t sound bad. Stiles hadn’t done much (okay, _any_ ) of it, but the prospect was… _nice_.

“ _Because_. I’ve done a little research, and even thought it’s easier if it is, it doesn’t have to be a sex thing. Or a romantic thing. I don’t need to _go steady_ with you; I just want you in my pack like you should be. That’s all. And you won’t do it if you don’t like me, if you think I’m some sort of bad guy, hence, the extracurricular _bonding time_. So get out of my car because I’m not trying to get in your pants.”

“Fine.” Stiles tried not to be a little disappointed. Okay, so maybe creepy stubbley werewolves weren’t the ideal he was looking for, but if the first person who showed any sort of interest in him was one, he could deal. Of course, clearly not the situation. Derek was just into the pseudo-seduction to get him in the pack. Not because he found Stiles attractive. Which was frustrating. Straight girls didn’t want him, gay guys didn’t want him, and now straight guys didn’t want him. He was going to have to find a lesbian, but it was _way_ more likely that he was just universally unattractive. Great. Thank you, Derek, for narrowing his options down considerably.

His dad was in the living room, watching TV with a shotgun on the couch next to him. 

“Cute. Really. Terrifying. The fact that you’re watching _Gilmore Girls_ kind of kills the effect, though.”

“Yeah, well, it was the only thing on.”

“Liar. You just like to believe that they’re the female versions of you and me.” 

His dad snorted. “Go to bed. And whatever you do, don’t tell me about your date. If I wanna hear a teenage girl moon over boys, I’ll watch one of those Nicholas Sparks movies.”

“ _Not_ a date, actually,” he said, ignoring the jab. 

“He brings you flowers, it’s a date.”

“No, it _was_ a date until I told him it wasn’t. Not really. We’re not…yeah, no, not so much. I don’t think I’m really his type. At all.”

His dad frowned. “Well. You’re too good for him, then. You’re not making a lick of sense, but that’s usually a good one to fall back on.”

Stiles grinned. “Yeah. Sure. I’ll see you in the morning.”

 

As soon as he shut the door behind him, Stiles threw himself into his chair and logged onto his computer. 

 _Please please please…_ Yep! Scott was online. Allison was probably on lockdown or something. 

“What’s up? Why weren’t you on earlier? I thought we were going to play some League,” Scott said. There was a can of Redbull next to him. Clearly planning on a late morning.

“Yeah, me too. Until Derek showed up.”

“Wait, Derek? I’ll be there in a couple minutes—“

“No, he’s not here _anymore_.” Scott looked concerned still. “And I still have my virtue, so you can calm your tits.”

“What’d he want?”

“Oh, he brought me flowers and took me around town, nothing weird or anything.” It struck him that that was something he’d say if it weren’t true. “That wasn’t sarcasm, by the way. I can go get the flowers to show you.”

“Wait, you went on a _date_ with Derek Hale? Derek Hale, _crazy alpha werewolf who lives in a half-burned-down wreck_? And you? On a _date_? Are you _sure_ you didn’t fall asleep or something?”

Stiles scowled. “You really think I’d dream of spending time with him? Come on. Give me a little credit. And yeah. I mean, it wasn’t technically a _date_ -date because that would’ve been really weird and I think I’d have to rip my own throat out first? But no. It happened, alright. You can ask my dad. They talked. And by talked, I mean my dad waved a gun in his face and threatened to kill him if I came home deflowered or something.” Stiles couldn’t help but grin at that. “Actually, I really wish I had a video. His _face_ …must have been _priceless_.”

Scott clearly had no idea how to process anything he was saying.

“Okay, howabout this: Derek needs help with his pack. You need a pack. I’m not saying you should, like, enlist or whatever, but let me check them out, see if it’s worthwhile for you to consider. If they were as easy to take apart as you said, then he _needs_ help so I think he’ll let me at least _watch_ him train them. I could gain intel, see if I can take his ego down a few pegs. What do you say?” Thinking about it, it was a weird idea, him watching pack training, but it sounded kind of cool, and maybe it was weird, but he thought it could be fun.

“I just…I’m kind of worried. But if you think it’s a good idea, I trust you. I mean, you’re alive thus far. He’s probably not going to kill you.”

“Right. I think he actually wants to be _friends_ or something, so I’ve got a good feeling about it.” 

“Well, be careful.”

“I will.” He looked around his room, eyes bored. “You know what? I think I’m going to pop some Adderall and see what I can cook up. Plan and whatnot.”

“Yeah?”

“Well, mostly, I want an excuse to watch Underworld again because I totally haven’t since you got all wolf-y, and that’s just _sad_ , and there’s gotta be some mixed martial arts on the web. I dunno. I’m kinda pumped. This is a good idea, isn’t it?” He was a little bit surprised at himself, because it really did sound _fun_. “But you do have to tell me more about pack stuff first. I mean, I can read the entire internet, but I get that there’s like, instincts, or wolfy senses, right? And you’re the best I got for that.”

Scott shrugged. “I’ve never really been _pack_ -pack, but there’s definitely stuff you just kind of _know_. Derek only told me a little before the whole Alpha thing, so most of what I know is just feelings, but they’re pretty clear. What do you want to know?”

“Have you checked out the wikipedia article on wolf packs? Because it’s, like, two sentences long. So just tell me everything you know.”

“Okay, um, well, the Alpha is the leader, you know that, but what happened with Derek? It wasn’t ‘cause he killed the old Alpha; some wolves are just more predisposed to becoming Alphas. I think he wasn’t before because his family was kind of big and there were older people in line for it, but Peter was the last. Um, then there’s everyone else. Most are Betas, that’s pretty normal, but there are some Omegas. They’re usually just in bigger packs because they’re a little more dependent on the pack as a whole, and vice-versa—“

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I don’t know the history or anything, but they’re kind of the buttmonkeys of the pack. They’re not quite as strong or anything, but they’re usually more in-control during the full moon, so they’re helpful around that time, especially in a big pack where everyone’s going moon-crazy at once.”

“Is it a sex thing? Because I was googling, and I found some… _stuff_.”

“Not really? I don’t know. Derek didn’t say anything about it. I mean, not to be crude or whatever, but they’re not really involved in, like, breeding. That wouldn’t make sense, you’d want the young to be from the strongest of the pack, not the weakest, you know? But most werewolves are turned not born, anyway. I think the Hales have been around for generations, that’s why they were so big and had little wolf-babies. Derek’s not really planning that far ahead, from what I’ve seen.”

“Okay, so tell me about instincts. Cause remember when I tried to convince my dad to get a puppy way back when? And he made me read an entire library on dog training before I could, and then I didn’t want to? I just remembered a lot of…dominance-type stuff. And I’ve seen some of that with Derek. Like, Isaac turned into a scared little puppy when he growled at him.”

“Yeah, I mean, it’s strongest with the wolf who turned you, but it’s instinctive to listen to Alphas. It’s a little weird to explain, but you just _want_ to.”

“Right. What about, like, mating?”

Scott gave him an embarrassed look. “I’m not really an expert on that. I mean, I know it exists? But I think only Alphas really do it, so I don’t know…I don’t have, like, _mating instincts_ or anything. That would be. Uh. Terrifying, actually. Normal teenage hormones are enough to deal with right now.”

“Well, yeah. But maybe the reason you _don’t_ is because you’re all _lone wolf_ right now and a Beta besides. Derek is building a pack, so maybe his spirit wolf or whatever is kicking in, trying to get more pack-ish, hence, _mate_. I mean, that’s logical. I could totally find him a better mate, I bet. Hey! That’s actually a _really_ good idea. Why don’t I just find Derek someone better, then he’ll stop creeping?” Okay, so maybe he wasn’t actually one hundred percent on board with that, what with the sexy, but for his health, probably a really great idea.

“Sure. But be careful about forcing it. If his instincts don’t tell him it’s right, it won’t stick. Like, with Allison, it’s instinctual. So it works. Really well. I mean, it’s really great.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll just find him an Allison. I can do that.”

“Alright. Good luck with that.”

Stiles rolled his eyes at the sarcasm. “Whatever. I should start doing some research. I’ll talk to you later.”


	4. A Beast of a Burden

A little after four AM, leg bouncing uncontrollably, Stiles wished he had his phone so he could text Derek. He’d watched the first and second Underworld movies while reading and watching youtube videos (he was a really great multitasker) and had some ideas. Actually, he had a list. Sort of. Kind of a flurry of post-its, but he could turn it into a list. There were some things he wanted to try, see what he could do.

And because he’d had two Mountain Dews and enough Adderall to make sleep sound utterly impossible, he was stuck in limbo. He couldn’t text, couldn’t talk to Derek, unless….

He’d had enough experience sneaking out that he was pretty much an expert. Really, he was stealth itself. He could totally join the CIA. _That_ stealthy. 

It wasn’t until he pulled up to the remains of the Hale house that he realized that it was a potentially a terrible idea. It was _early_ and Derek didn’t exactly seem like a morning person. Or a night person, actually. He was kind of grumpy all-around. So maybe waking him up was a bad plan. But he was already there and driving back would _suck_ and he was wired, so he just though, _Fuck it_ , and got out of the car.

He almost backed down when he got up to the door. But whatever. Derek probably wouldn’t try to kill him. Probably. 

So he knocked. Loudly and a few too many times. And waited. 

Only Derek looked completely awake when he answered. But he pushed Stiles out, shutting the door behind them, then kept pushing him until they got back to Stiles’ car. 

“What do you want? Isaac is asleep, so keep your voice down.”

“Isaac is here?”

“He’s laying low here for a few days. So. Why are you here? Isn’t it early for you?”

“Late, actually. And, well, this is kind of awkward.” He rubbed at his scalp. “I was wondering if you’d let me watch you train your pack. I mean, I know I’m human and all, but I think I could maybe help? Because I’ve been researching and I have a couple ideas? Not that I want to tell you how to train your pack, but I heard from Scott that they kind of, well, they suck. A bit. I mean, they’re newbies and all, so that’s not a reflection on your Alpha-ing, but I just thought….yeah.” Derek’s expression was still, unchanged. His usual slightly-pissed, slightly-evil look. 

After a minute, he shrugged. “Alright. I’ll assemble them. It couldn’t hurt.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Now go home. Sleep. I’ll call you—“

“Can’t. Phone’s still at the bottom of the pool.”

“ _Fine_. Then I’ll come pick you up in a few hours. Eat breakfast.” With that, he turned and walked back inside, leaving Stiles leaning against his car with conversational blue balls. Great. So now he had a few hours to kill. 

Fuck werewolves; he was going to watch The Covenant.

 

He woke up to pretty insistent knocking on his bedroom door.

“Stiles? You up? You decent?” his dad called through the door. There were certainly times when he was grateful that, starting at about thirteen, his dad would always knock as opposed to barge in in the mornings. But the knocking was loud and harsh, and he was pretty sure his face was lying in a puddle of drool. 

“Oh, uh, yeah,” he said, wiping his mouth clumsily. His dad opened the door.

The look he gave him for clearly having slept at his desk was clear enough that he didn’t have to say anything. “Derek’s here. Says you two had plans today. You want me to tell him you need to sleep?”

“No, no, it’s fine. Let me just change. Yeah.” He looked down at his clothes with a grimace. “Definitely change. Maybe shower really quick. Did he look impatient?”

“Honestly? I have no idea. Doesn’t matter. You shower, get dressed, I’ll throw together some breakfast for you.”

“You are my _favorite_ , have I ever told you that? Because you are, really, you’re the greatest—“

“Stiles. Stop talking. Get in the shower.”

“Roger that.”

 

Fifteen minutes later, he pretty much ran down the stairs, notes crumpled in his pockets and ears still wet. There was a plate on the table. Across from Derek. Who was eating. At the table. Like a human being. His dad came in after a second with his own plate and sat down.

“You gonna stand there or are you gonna eat?” he asked. 

Stiles sat, a little nervous. It was just…weird. Eating breakfast with his dad and Derek Hale. Surreal.

“So, Derek says you’re going hiking. Didn’t really take you for much of a hiker.”

“Yeah, well. I just found an appreciation for the beauty of nature? The woods are nice.”

“Really? Because I know some teenagers go to the woods to—“

“Actually, Mr. Stilinski, it’s something of a group hike. My parents used to take me and my sister Laura on these nature trails that led up to the hills. There’s some caves up there. I know Scott expressed an interest, so I thought it might be a nice day trip.” His dad relaxed at Scott’s name considerably. Good move. 

“Well. That sounds nice. Don’t get into any trouble. Mountain lions and all of that.” 

“Yeah, we will. I’m done. Are you done? We should probably head out. Scott’s probably waiting. You know.” Stiles tried not to flail awkwardly, which was kind of hard because, hey, sitting at a table with his dad and Derek, really fucking flail-worthy scenario. 

“Sure. Wouldn’t want to keep him waiting.”

“Go ahead. I’ll get the dishes,” his dad said with a sigh. “Be safe.”

“Will do,” Stiles said, grabbing Derek’s arm to drag him away. 

“Thank you for the breakfast, Mr. Stilinski. It was fantastic.” Derek gave a little smile that made Stiles want to slap him because really? He looked like perfection when he smiled, and it was kind of ridiculous. It made him look fifteen years younger.

“You’re welcome, Derek. Nice to know that _someone_ learned their manners.” _That_ glare was very unfair. His dad just didn’t grasp the _weirdness_ of the situation. At all. Clearly. Well, obviously, since he didn’t know about the werewolves or anything. So yeah. 

“Bye, Dad! See ya! Gotta go!” 

As they were heading to Derek’s car, Stiles turned to face him.

“So, you invited Scott?”

“No. And we’re not going to the woods either, but it was the first thing I could think of.”

Stiles grinned.

 

“This is…not what I was expecting,” Stiles said as Derek showed him into the dark, kind of nast warehouse. “Super creepy. Awesome.”

“It’s temporary. Until I trust them in the woods.”

“Hell- _o_. Right here,” Erica said with a whole lot of sass. 

Derek turned to her with a glare. “I’m well aware of that. You want respect, you want privileges? _Earn_ them.” There was a tense silence as Erica, as well as Isaac and Boyd, dropped her gaze to the floor. 

“Right. So that was cute. Anyway, what kind of thing do we have going here? Can I check out your moves?”

Derek shrugged off his jacket and threw it to the side, then walked towards one end of the warehouse. “Let’s go.” 

Isaac snarled, wolfing out, and charged him, jumping off a stack of crates to launch himself at Derek, only to be roughly thrown away. Erica and Boyd both did the same, and they continued, over and over until Stiles wanted to punch all of them for being stupid.

“Alright, _that_ ’s enough.” Erica stopped, about to take off running. They all looked at him. “Is this all you do? Seriously?”

Isaac smirked. “Well, not exactly. This one time, Erica—“ She cut him off with a snarl.

“What? Sashayed? Flashed him? Did a sexy dance?” No, he’s not having a good time imagining all of those things. That would be unprofessional.

“Went in for a kiss, actually,” Boyd said with a grin. Stiles raised his eyebrow at Derek.

“Which was a really _stupid_ tactic and we’ve already established that, so _moving on_ ,” he said. Looked like someone wasn’t exactly pleased. 

Stiles shrugged. “I mean, unless done right, which I assume it wasn’t. I mean, if you’ve ever watched a spy movie, you know seduction requires subtlety, which, no offense, Erica, but it’s not really your strong suit. So. Maybe not so much? Anyway, watching you all, well, it’s cute.” Derek growled low, soft. “No, it is, and you wanna know why? Because you all just think so much _alike_ , it’s ridiculous. That ‘run and jump off of things’ routine? Yeah, seen it. Derek’s move. Apparently, your _only_ move because really? Nothing else? 

“And, let’s just take a moment to think about strategy: you’ve got, let’s say, the kanima, and you wanna kill that motherfucker dead. If you just up and charge it, you’re going to end up paralyzed or dead yourselves. The only time you should straight up _run_ at a bitch is if you’re the distraction, or if you can handle it by yourself. I think Friday night’s fun times at the pool prove that’s not really an option. So _maybe_ , instead of all of this solo work, which is good, yeah, for some thing, but not as much for this, you should try, and I know this is a little crazy, a little out there, but you could try working as a _pack_. As a comprehensive unit. A team. Isaac, you play lacrosse; if every guy on that field was out for themselves, they would lose. That’s how it works. Sure, that thing’s got the sleepy time claws, that’s its strength, but you have something of your own: numbers and instinct and pack and whatever else it is that’s the reason werewolves have survived so long. So use it.” 

There was a general silence. Boyd, Erica, and Isaac seemed to actually be sort of…respectful. And Derek’s looking at him like he was days ago, when Stiles had translated his brain for him, when they smelled like chlorine, when, for the first time, he’d thought Derek had seen him as something other than just “Scott’s awkward friend”. 

“Do it. Talk amongst yourselves. Strategize,” Derek said. He walked over to Stiles almost slowly. Like he was holding himself back. 

“So. How’d I do?” 

Derek smiled a strange sort of open smile, shaking his head slow. “I need you. The pack needs you. I’m not going to pretend we don’t, I’m not going to pretend it’s less than what it is. There’s a place for you here, with us, as an equal, and it’s on the table. I want you to be a part of this. So you know where I stand on that.”  

Stiles actually had no fucking clue what to say. Yeah, nope. Got nothing. Absolutely nothing. Because it sounded like _respect_ or something? And that had no business coming from Derek. That wasn’t them. They might save each others’ lives and whatnot, but respect and friendliness were just a little bit completely not their M.O.

“Let’s see what they’re doing,” Derek said, studying him carefully. Stiles nodded dumbly, still trying to process the fact that Derek apparently legitimately sees him as important, important enough to be an _equal_ to him, which was completely crazy. Good-crazy, but still not at all what Stiles ever expected. 

But then the Terrible Trio started doing their thing, and _fuck_. Stiles had been completely right. If the fact that they had Derek on the floor in under two minutes wasn’t telling enough, the way they all _moved_ together was kind of freaking awesome. It was like they were completely aware of each other, what they were all doing and thinking, like an assortment of limbs held together by a single consciousness rather than just a group of random people. Totally cool. Taking down the kanima was looking like an actual possibility now. 

He didn’t even try to keep the grin off his face because _fuck yeah_ , he was fucking awesome.

 

By the time the werewolves were all kind of sweaty, Stiles was kind of really tired. Not sleeping much really didn’t ever treat him right, so he only felt _kind of_ really bad about turning down a pack pizza night. 

Apparently, that was enough for him to _not_ turn it down, not at all, even if he wasn’t really sure if he was fully conscious and the idea of spending any time in what was apparently some sort of abandoned train car was kind of terrifying at best. But he was hungry. Food could be a temporary substitute for sleep. Definitely. And since his mouth wasn’t really on board with the whole going-home-to-sleep plan and wouldn’t say what he wanted it to, it was totally fine. 

Erica, as it turned out, drew the metaphorical short straw and had to go pick up the pizza, so it turned into boys’ night for a little while. Isaac got everyone beers, good ones, not the shitty kind Stiles got at parties, but actual real beer because not being able to get drunk apparently made people beer snobs. Not that Stiles was going to complain. And Isaac and Boyd were being _nice_ to him, too, as well as Derek, and there was absolutely no way he was going to fuck it up.

 

His brain had other plans, it seemed, because when the smell of pizza hit his nostrils, it was as a wake-up. Because he’d apparently fallen asleep. Great. On a very nice warm pillow that’s totally—

Totally Derek.

Derek’s leg, to be precise, which puts Stiles’ face in the kind of proximity to particular areas that kind of go to his head because he’s 16 and, like pretty much everyone his age, is hyper-aware of sex. Maybe a little more than most. 

“Aw, nap time for Stiles? I supposed you won’t mind if I eat your slices then,” Erica said, giving him a somewhat-mocking smile. But it was like, sister-mocking. If Stiles knew at all what it was like to have a sister, which he didn’t, but he would guess that it was kind of like how Erica was looking at him. 

“Not even in your dreams.” Yeah, he, the absolute paragon of maturity, stuck his tongue out at her. So what. “Food? Where’s food? Can I have food? Is that a thing that’s going to happen?”

She shoved a paper plate into his hand. “Use your manners, and yes. It’s pizza. Eat up, cuddle-boy.”

“ _Cuddle-boy_? I am _not_ —“ He stopped when he realized that he was, in fact, in a rather cuddly position, so no, he didn’t exactly have room to argue. “Well. Yeah. Fine. Point conceded. Now howabout that pizza?” If he saw something of a smile on Derek’s face, it had to be a trick of the light or something. 

Oh, but pizza was _holy_. _Sooooo_ good. Stiles needed all of it inside him. 

And that was how, ten minutes later, he ended up with a massive foodbaby. Hell, it was _twins_. No, no, he was the fucking _octomom_ right then. He needed to slip into a coma _bad_.

“Stiles, come on. Let me take you home before you pass out.” 

“No, ’s good here. ‘M _fine_ ,” he mumbled, eyes already slipped closed. And then it was okay because he felt warm and cradled and everything was very, very comfy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh, I wanna apologize for this taking so long.... I may have started another Sterek fic on accident that I've been working on like mad because it decided that it needed to be written. So I'm gonna wrap them both up in the next week or so, then start posting the other one because that one's a doozy...so far, it's like 40k of angst and feels, but I WILL finish this. And then I may or may not be writing a Male Stripper!AU because I went and saw Magic Mike and I need something fluffy to counteract the feels from this other bitch. But yeah. That's what's up. And I'm sorry...but more Sterek soon!


	5. Chapter 5

Okay, so my computer died again, within minutes of posting this, but y'all are right. This chapter crapped out. As soon as I have my laptop again, there will be rewrites. Major ones. 


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